


In the Morning

by arianapeterson19



Series: Avengers Shorts [74]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blood, Child Abuse, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecure Tony, M/M, Multi, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Phil Coulson, Protectiveness, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arianapeterson19/pseuds/arianapeterson19
Summary: Phil just wanted to get into a good college, Tony just wanted to survive, and Clint just enjoyed taking care of strays.ORThe one where senior year would be a lot easier if Howard wasn't such a horrible dad.





	In the Morning

The bell had just sounded, signaling the end of the day and the friends had gathered at their lockers, either putting books away, placing books in bags, or – in Thor’s case – eating a Pop Tart.

“Are you sure I look okay?” said Phil, anxiously adjusting his tie. He had an interview with the college he wanted to get into in an hour and was worried that he looked too much like an adult instead of a student who desperately needed a scholarship. 

“You always look hot,” said Tony, grinning impishly up at the older boy. “No homo or anything.”

Phil rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

“Just kidding!” yelled Tony, slapping Phil’s butt.

Tony laughed as Phil walked away, everyone wishing him good luck on the interview.

As they left the school, Tony followed Steve to his car. Steve always drove him home on Thursday’s, which was kind of him because they lived in opposite directions. Tony never asked for a ride – he didn’t ask for much of anything really – but James Rhodes had threatened them all within an inch of their lives to make sure Tony was looked after before he left for training in the fall. So Steve was always Thursday, when he didn’t have football practice right after school. No one was sure if Tony knew that or not, but the young senior never mentioned it and no one ever brought it up. Natasha was positive that Tony had no idea.

Steve dropped Tony at his apartment and drove off. Tony waited until Steve had rounded the corner before continuing his walk several more blocks to a much less respectable apartment building. Inside the basement apartment, Tony stalked to his room, ignoring the slumped form of his father on the couch, working on yet another cheap beer. He didn’t bother checking the fridge, he knew there wouldn’t be any food.

“Could you make anymore fucking noise?” growled Howard.

“Probably,” said Tony with a shrug. “Want me to try?”

“You little shit,” snapped Howard, throwing his bottle at Tony, who didn’t dodge fast enough and the bottle hit him just right, shattering over his hand and arm that was stretched out to protect his head.

“Real nice, dad,” grumbled Tony.

“Get the fuck out,” yelled Howard, rising. “Waste of fucking space. You didn’t even bring home the fucking groceries like I told you to, did you? What the fuck? Can’t even pull your own fucking weight around here. Just leave, you shit.”

“Whatever,” said Tony under his breath, turning right back to the door. “I don’t want to stay in the shithole anyway.”

It wasn’t an everyday occurrence but it happened about once every few months where Howard would actually kick Tony out. Tony would leave for a few days, maybe a week, sleep at Rhodey’s or in the park or somewhere and then slip back in when Howard was less high or drunk or not around. It wasn’t a big deal but Tony had never had to survive one of those times without Rhodey to have his back – at least make sure he ate. Maybe he could go over to Mama Rhodes, she did like Tony and always had food and while Rhodey’s bed wouldn’t be as warm without him, it was still safer than the park.

Tony wandered around for a while, ignoring the way his hand and arm oozed blood, trying to keep it from leaking on his pants and shirt because he didn’t have any clean clothes with him.

“Tony?” said a voice from a stairway.

Tony looked up and quickly plastered on a smile while inwardly groaning – the last thing he wanted to do was explain why he was walking around a neighborhood that wasn’t his late on a school night.

“Hey Clint,” said Tony. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing out?” asked Clint, his sharp eyes taking in the bloody arm and hand, strained curve of the smile, and tired eyes that stared back at him.

“I like the out doors,” said Tony with a shrug. “But you’re right, it’s getting late, so I’m just going to head home.”

“No you’re not,” said Clint. “You’re a shit liar. Come inside, I’ll fix your hand.”

“No thanks.”

Clint rolled his eyes and pulled Tony inside. Clint lived with Phil in a tiny apartment. Both had been in the foster system – Clint since he was twelve and Phil since he was thirteen – and as soon as they turned 18 had jumped ship and gotten an apartment. Most of their friends had spent the night at least once – Natasha practically lived there – but Tony had never been over. For months Clint had suspected that something was going on at home with the younger boy but he hadn’t had anything solid to base it on so he had said nothing. Clearly, that had been a mistake.

“What’s your address?” asked Clint, leading Tony to the fifth floor walk up.

“Why?”

“I’ll need to tell Phil where to go to get your things. He’s at work right now but when he gets off he can just stop by and get your shit and bring it here, save you the trip.”

“I’m not moving here,” said Tony indignantly. “I don’t need your help.”

“Please,” said Clint, rolling his eyes. “I’ve known for months that something was going on at home. You dad clearly beat you – trust me, I’ve been there so I know the difference between falling down and getting hit. I’m not letting you go back there now that I have solid evidence.”

“It’s not really your choice. I’m 16, I’d go into the system at best and you can’t honestly expect me to do that just to be shoved from home to home until I turned 18.”

“See, you’re not even denying that your dad is a bastard.”

Tony didn’t bother dignifying that with a response because of course he didn’t, his father was a bastard at best and there was nothing that could redeem him in Tony’s eyes. Still, putting up with that was better than sleeping on the streets every night.

“I don’t need saving,” said Tony softly.

Clint took Tony’s arm in his hands. Though Clint’s hands were rough, they were also gentle as they turned Tony’s arm and hand as he washed off the blood in the sink, inspecting the wound as he did. 

“I never said you did,” said Clint.

“Good,” said Tony with a pout. “As long as that’s clear.”

Clint grinned to himself as he cleaned Tony’s wound. He liked the little genius, appreciated the spunk the kid showed. Clint had been there, he knew that kids in similar situations didn’t always react like Tony – they often became a shadow of a creature or they became violent, but Tony was neither. Tony wore a mask to protect himself but he did no harm. However, Clint also knew that would probably change once Tony was out of the situation – once he had a stable home all those emotions he repressed would come out in some way. There was always fallout.

“Does your dad expect you back soon?” asked Clint, wrapping gauze around the wound.

“No,” sighed Tony. “Not for at least a week. Even then, he doesn’t know where I go to school. I’ve been enrolling myself since I was twelve.”

“Is he listed as your parent on the forms?”

“No,” scoffed Tony. “I’ve always entered my mother as my parent. So even if he somehow calls the correct school they won’t legally be able to tell him anything since he’s not listed as one of my trusted adults or whatever they are called nowadays.”

“You’ve been planning escaping from him for a while, haven’t you?”

“It’s a nice thing to daydream about,” said Tony, taking his arm back when Clint had finished and stepping away. “But that’s all it is, a dream. I can’t really escape him. College forms are a bit more difficult to forge you know.”

“Difficult, but not impossible,” said Clint. “It’s weird how good Phil is at paperwork.”

Tony eyed Clint with new appreciation. Honestly, he hadn’t expected anyone but Rhodey to be willing to help him – and Rhodey would have helped him if Tony had let him, but Tony didn’t want to involve his best friend and surrogate brother and risk Rhodey’s bright future in the military. There were a million reasons Tony had wanted to protect Rhodey from his home life and while Tony knew he hadn’t succeeded exactly he couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason Rhodey didn’t follow his dreams – if he was the reason Rhodey stayed. Clint and Phil, however, were another story. They were in his class, for one thing, and were both on their own for another.

Tony went to sit down on the floor of the kitchen but Clint steered him to the bedroom and forced him to wait by the bed while he went to the closet.

“Here, you can wear this,” said Clint, tossing an old short sleeved shirt and some sweat pants. “They might be a bit big but they’re better than your current clothes. I’ll be in the living room when you’re done.”

While Tony was changing and using the bathroom, Phil arrived home, a single duffle thrown over one shoulder and a ratty wooden crate in his arms full of books, bits of metal, and what looked like wheels. He set everything down near the couch and sat down.

“Hey babe,” said Clint, hopping onto the couch. “How was getting Tony’s things?”

“His father was passed out,” said Phil. “He’s not going back there. I won’t let him. We have proof now. Seriously, you should have seen the conditions Clint. There wasn’t any food anywhere, it was filthy, I took everything Tony owned and that was it – that’s all. I mean, I didn’t bring his toothbrush but that’s because that thing needed replacing.”

“Calm down, babe,” said Clint, rubbing Phil’s arm. “It’s okay, Tony’s safe.”

“Hey Clint, do you have any socks?” said Tony, entering the living room, dressed in Phil’s shirt which was too big on the shoulders and Clint’s pants which hung beyond his feet and were clearly tied at the waist but it was the bruises on his arms that drew the attention of the two on the couch. “Oh, hi Phil, I didn’t realize you were here. But I guess I should have since you live here, not me. It makes sense. How did your interview go?”

“Fine,” said Phil, gesturing Tony over to the couch. “I got your things from your apartment.”

Tony went willingly – he always enjoyed being in Phil and Clint’s space. Clint and Tony always had a tactile relationship, forever hanging off each other or leaning together while Phil and Tony tended to cuddle when movie nights happened or during cold football games. So joining them on the couch was nothing unusual and now that they knew for sure, Clint and Phil could see how Tony craved the positive touch and were more than willing to supply it.

“Thanks,” said Tony softly.

“You know we’re not going to let you go back to him, right?” said Phil.

“So I’m like your prisoner?”

“No,” chuckled Clint. “We won’t let you go back because we have proof that he hurt you. We care about you too much to let that continue. You don’t have to stay here – though you’re more than welcome to and I really you would rather stay with us than somewhere else – but you can’t go back there.”

“Or what?”

“Or we’ll tell Rhodey,” said Phil calmly.

“What?” said Tony, rearing back, shock and hurt clear on his face.

“He made us all promise before he left to take care of you.”

“Not that we wouldn’t have anyway,” said Clint. “So don’t even start thinking that we’re only doing this because your big brother is terrifying – which he is.”

“But if you let us help you we can keep this between the three of us,” assured Phil, dragging Tony back down into the safety of his arms.

Tony was silent for a few minutes.

“You can’t tell anyone,” said Tony, which was as good of a ‘yes’ as they were going to get.

“You can sleep on the couch or we can break out the cot in our room or you can share our bed,” said Clint with a lilt of teasing in his tone.

“Shut up,” whined Tony, kicking at the older boy.

“What? You did hit on my boyfriend not twelve hours ago.”

Tony groaned but there was the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, so both of the older boys counted it as a win. Phil got Tony a blanket for the couch – they would sort the rest in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Planning on two chapters.....but would it be the worst thing in the world if it became a little longer and got Tony, Clint, and Phil together? 
> 
> Always,  
> Ari


End file.
